typeHorizon is a research-software studio. Every paper that gets typed pushes the boundary of what is known — so the tools that carry that typing should be precise instruments, not rented apps. Built first for the astrophysics community; open to anyone who writes hard things down.
A telescope extends the eye; a manuscript extends the species. Everything humanity knows about the universe was, at some point, typed by someone at a desk at 2 a.m. typeHorizon exists for that person. We build the instruments of writing — local-first, scientifically verified, and owned by the researcher.
Your manuscript, your data, your machine. Everything works offline; the network is an option, never a requirement. Nothing leaves your computer without your say.
AI features ship with benchmarks, not adjectives. Every release must catch planted physics errors — and stay silent on correct text. A co-author that invents problems is worse than none.
Designed during a working doctorate — CMB foregrounds, real referees, real deadlines. Astrophysics-first by birth; nothing stops a geomorphologist, an economist, or a historian at the door.
A complete writing environment for scientific papers: a real compiler, a citation engine across four databases, and a deep-AI collaborator named Kumar who referees your physics — and knows when to say “I don’t know.”
The same instrument, holding you exactly as much as you need — Kumar, the in-editor scientist, adjusts to your altitude.
Her first thesis. Templates that explain themselves, structure that appears as she writes, LaTeX taught instead of assumed.
Her next paper. Grammar that respects equations, citations that resolve, and a referee that checks the physics before the journal does.
The international collaboration. Fast, local, private — and an assistant that stays silent until called.
superHorizon runs its own private engine, entirely on your machine — a real compiler and a real intelligence layer, with no round-trip to anyone’s cloud. Here is what’s inside.
A stream forgets. subHorizon accumulates. It's research memory that happens to take chat as its input — where the value isn't the message, but the typed claim that grows out of it.
Most tools forget. The chat where you found the result, the notebook where you ruled out the wrong model, the paper you finally wrote — three disconnected worlds. typeHorizon runs one certified line of knots through all of them, and tunnels it — privately, on your own machine — from thinking straight into writing. No one else owns both ends.
The research grows as a web of knots — decisions, results, questions — with a history that proves you did the work.
The certified knot-structure tunnels over — on your machine, never through a stranger's server — carrying its proof of provenance with it.
It arrives as a living skeleton in your journal format — the knots already in place. You write; the paper stays anchored to how it was made.
One account, one key. A single research identity signs you into both instruments, and a single encryption key — held only by you — keeps everything readable to you and the people you invite. Not even typeHorizon can read your work.
Not a writing app. Not a notes app. Not another wrapper around someone else's AI. typeHorizon is one coherent instrument — thinking, writing, provenance, citations, collaboration and identity — designed to work as a single thing, and owned by you. The way great tools once made computing feel whole, we make research feel whole.
The only place that holds the thinking — your knots — and the writing, joined by a private, certified tunnel. No one else owns both ends of the loop, so no one else can close it.
Your work carries a history you can hand to a skeptic: that these people built it, over real time, unaltered. Nothing else in research does this — and it can't be cheaply forged.
One identity, one key, one design. Compiler, co-author, citations, backups, collaboration — parts of one instrument, not a drawer of plug-ins that half-agree with each other.
Local-first and private by default, with an AI measured against benchmarks — not adjectives. It says "I don't know" instead of inventing, and runs on your own machine when you want.
If it isn't obviously better for the two people who lived the work — a student and their supervisor — we haven't shipped it. That's the bar.
Local-first, so you own what runs on your machine. Each platform lights up the moment its build ships.
The LaTeX editor with a co-author inside.
The knowledge web that remembers the work.
Drop a build in and its button goes live — no redeploy needed.
Feedback, a bug, or a complaint about superHorizon or subHorizon — it reaches the team directly. Early testers shape what ships next.
The macOS beta is opening to a small group of researchers. Tell us where to send your build — early testers shape the roadmap directly.
Full editor, compiler, citations, AI co-author and referee. Free during beta.
Same local-first build, every platform a thesis gets written on.
What grows inside the horizon. Your group’s thinking, condensed into living structure. More when it’s ready.
Accounts, sync and collaboration run on a server you or your institute host — on your own hardware, or on EU ground near you, not off in some company's data centre. And it's end-to-end encrypted: your manuscripts and notes stay readable only to you and the people you invite — not to the server, not to your IT team, not to typeHorizon.